


Le Chat Noir

by kwamii



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Humour, Identity Reveal, the one where chat sings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-19
Updated: 2017-05-19
Packaged: 2018-11-02 12:25:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10944471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kwamii/pseuds/kwamii
Summary: Marinette is used to Chat Noir charming her, but when he serenades her, it's a totally different story.





	Le Chat Noir

**Author's Note:**

> My exams finished on Monday and since then, I've been trying to find inspiration for a new fic since I love writing them! Luckily for me, Marichat May has come to my rescue, and today's prompt has been 'identity reveal'
> 
> This is an idea I've been toying with for a while and it was actually so much fun to write! I hope you enjoy it as much as I did!!
> 
> Also, the title is a reference to the cabaret 'Le Chat Noir', in Montmarte, which was one of the first. It's lazy as references go but it's doubly appropriate and also I know nothing about the musical 'Cats' soooooo
> 
> [The fic is also on tumblr if that's something that interests you](https://kwa-mii.tumblr.com/post/160834721001/le-chat-noir)

Chat was a self-proclaimed charmer. Self-proclaimed, because he considered his pun-based flirting to be the epitome of seduction and would often brag about his ‘way with women’. Charmer, because it was somewhat true.

Marinette, weird as it was to admit it to herself, had been slowly falling under his spell. Yes, she’d always _liked_ her teammate - he was reliable, good company, kind to her - but she’d never allowed herself to transgress that boundary. It would make their partnership weird after all, and Ladybug wasn’t ready to make mistakes because of some silly crush. But as Marinette that had changed slightly.

When he was around her civilian self, Chat lowered some of his walls. Lolling on her bed and enthusing about his favourite anime, playing videogames, salivating over freshly-baked pastries, he seemed less untouchable hero, and more human - and an undeniably _cute_ one at that. Without an akuma to distract her, she could really admire his tousled golden hair, his bright green eyes, the gorgeously toned body beneath the suit. (Stop it Marinette! Don’t think about that! That was a violation of their sacred comradeship! He was Chat, and she was Ladybug and)

Chat _really_ wasn’t making it easier on her. His effusive, natural flirtatiousness, concentrated like that on her, was an indomitable force. Every time he sprung onto her balcony with some freshly plucked roses, or bought another small plushie to fill her bed, or, damnit, hit her with that confident, toothy smile, she could feel that partnership-relationship boundary becoming less clear. And sometimes, when they cuddled in bed and watched movies together, she couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel to kiss him, to entwine their bodies more deeply. His heat was enticing and his arms were strong - but Marinette was strong too, and unerringly loyal to the thought of Adrien.

So, in the end, it didn’t matter. She could not afford to fall in love with Chat. She could not afford to admit that parts of her, great and persuasive parts, wanted to.

Even so, as Chat sprung into her room that evening, she couldn’t stop her heart’s flutter. Light in step, and light in voice, he bounced over to her and pressed a kiss to her cheek. Though many people in France did this in greeting, Chat made it feel more… _charming_ , she supposed, amorous. Then, pulling away, he beamed at her, “Did you miss me?”

She gestured towards her homework, “Oh, desperately. Has my knight come to rescue me?”

Marinette was not naturally flirty, at all, but there was something about Chat (there were a lot of things about Chat, it seemed) that was different. She felt a bit nauseous every single time she batted her eyelids, but it was definitely fun.

He leaned over her to look - his smell so cosy, like home - and smiled, “Oh, it’s science. I could help you with that.”

“That’s not the kind of rescuing I was thinking about.”

“I can’t condone slacking, Marinette.”

“Bummer,” she muttered, turning back to her work, her pencil tapping aimlessly against the edge of the desk.

“However,” he purred, spinning her chair back to face him, “It’s bad manners to ignore a guest.”

“Are they a guest if they climb in through your windows? I’d call that an 'intruder’.”

“Semantics.”

There was a pause here. With Chat leaning over her, his hands placed either side of the chair’s back, Marinette felt herself beginning to blush. She wrested herself away, getting up abruptly, and turning on the radio, “Well, you have a point. You can help me later, I guess, if you still want to. I need a break.”

He grinned, “Alright! What’s the plan?”

“Uh, I assumed you had one, considering you were so _eager_ …”

“It’s all a front, princess. I just wanted to get you away from that desk; you looked half-dead.”

_Princess again_. She’d heard it a few times now, but the pet name still got to her, in its delightful intimacy. It made her warm and fuzzy, knowing he thought of her like that - or, at least, pretending to. She wasn’t sure how she felt about his just saying it for the sake of it… somehow, it was important to her that he meant it, at least partly.

Wishing to shut out these traitorous thoughts, she turned the knob on the radio louder. Chat’s eyes widened, “Oh, I love this song!”

Marinette’s eyes widened too. Somehow, despite their shared evenings together, she had never pictured him liking music like this - sweet, cutesy, romantic. She loved it too, but, “I would’ve thought your taste would’ve been way different. Stromae, or something.”

“Oh, I like him too, I listen to pretty much everything. But I have a special place in my heart for romance.”

She wished he wouldn’t look at her like that when saying such things. Especially when he was starting to move in time to the music, swaying and tapping his feet. Chat was beginning to transcend cute and had become irresistibly so, mouthing the words to the love song at her with an earnest expression: _‘I always liked to seduce but it’s OK if you’re the only one who likes me.’_

She could laugh. She could swoon. She could kiss him!

At least, until he started actually singing. Maybe it didn’t help that the singer was at a range well above his own, but it was clear that Chat had not been made to sing. Instead, he yowled, like the cliché of a cat, every note landing far from its mark. His voice strained at the edges. He was a mess. She could laugh, and so she did, unable to keep the giggles in at his genuine attempt to serenade her.

It seemed even Chat had flaws. Just like that, it had become a little easier not to fall in love with him. As long as he kept serenading her, she was safe; they could be Just Friends.

* * *

In the end, Marinette did not finish her science homework. She had spent the evening messing around with Chat, singing karaoke, and dancing goofily until they were flush and breathless, in a heap across Marinette’s bed. Her mum had come in to ask about the noise, but she had managed to hide him beneath a blanket just in time - she wasn’t ready to answer those questions just yet.

Luckily, the homework became unimportant, overshadowed by the news that their year would be putting on a musical. Every year put on a show around this time, but the fact that it was going to be a musical was especially exciting.

Nathaniel wished to do nothing more than make the sets - “I couldn’t… I’d rather not be on stage” - and Marinette, though she wasn’t a _terrible_ singer, would rather be in charge of the costumes. However, there were certainly many others who wanted to act.

Alya was enthusiastic, “I wonder what it’ll be! I love West Side Story, or maybe it’s Phantom? Les Mis, perhaps. There are so many good musicals out there - ooh, what about Wicked? No, no, Grease is a classic.”

Nino was interested, “I don’t know how good I am at singing, but I’d like to do something, y'know. Music is my jam, so this should be cool. I’m pumped.”

Chloé was confident, “Oh, I’ll have to get the leading part. Daddy says I sing like an angel, and besides, I was born to be centre stage. None of you losers had better audition for the main part. It’ll be me and Adrien up there together, right, Adri-kins?”

Adrien did not look particularly taken with the idea. However, there was no two ways about it - his looks and his natural stage presence meant he was the ideal lead. He had proven his talent in their class film, and there was no other boy quite as handsome or as charming as him. As romantic interests go, he was the perfect match. Besides, “I’m not a bad singer,” he shrugged.

Alya nudged her neighbour, “Yes, but Adrien’s probably just being humble. When he says 'not bad’, he probably means 'amazing’. I wouldn’t put it past him. Kid is _perfect_.”

Marinette nodded, leaning forwards in her seat as Adrien stepped up to sing for them. She could imagine he was singing just for her, if she just pretended there was no one else in the room. Adrien, with his eyes like emeralds, and his hair like spun sunbeams, and his voice like -

Like nails scraping on a chalkboard? Like the clatter of old machinery? Like a primordial screech?

She winced. She noticed everyone in the class, from the corner of her eye, had been similarly affected. Faces paling, mouths dropping, Chloé on the verge of tears. No one had expected this. That perfect, beautiful Adrien, with his perfect, beautiful soul, should have such an ugly voice when he sang. A voice like -

A voice like Chat?

Her small wince turned into a minor coughing fit as she spluttered on the thought. That was ridiculous. Chat couldn’t be Adrien. Chat was dangerous, Adrien was gentle… but had Chat not shown his gentleness to Marinette? Ok, ok, so they shared a characteristic or two. And ok, so they were both blonde, green eyes, beautiful body - as his partner, Marinette knew Chat’s body well, as his covetous fan, she had studied Adrien’s, and admittedly they bore _remarkable_ similarities - but those were superficial traits. And, like, fine, they both had an abysmal singing voice, like a crying cat, but what did that mean? Nothing.

Except face it, Marinette. The chances of two people in Paris singing that badly was infinitissimally small. That was a god-given voice, a rarity. Forced with this truth, reminded of others, she had to accept the possibility that Adrien was the boy under the suit.

She relaxed now. Watched him. Despite the assault on her eardrums, it was actually quite cute. He didn’t seem to realise, sang with abandon, with his whole body flung into song. He always had been eager.

Perhaps now she could afford to fall in love. With the both of them, with each part of the wonderful whole. She didn’t need to forsake Adrien for Chat, she didn’t need to hold Adrien on a distant pedestal when she knew and loved him in different skin. But, there was still the chance… she needed to check her theory.

Adrien came to the end of his song, and saw that the class were staring at him without a word. Not a single reaction, not a single sound. Slightly fazed, he went back to his seat. He whispered over to his friends, “How was that?”

Only Marinette had the wits about her to reply, “It was an interesting experience.”

“Interesting doesn’t always mean good,” he said self-consciously.

“Semantics.”

He didn’t catch the hint, looking still a bit awkward. Obviously she had to be more blatant, to check if her idea was right, “You know, even though there were a few technical faults, you looked like a perfect _knight_ up there.”

He jerked to attention, looking her in the eye, seeing some meaning hidden there, “You think so?”

She nodded, “I can imagine you climbing in through the window to rescue someone.”

Alya looked baffled at her friend’s new bravery. Adrien looked coy, “Ah, damn, there goes my secret.”

So it was true! “I have one or two of my own I think I could trade for that,” she smiled. It was only fair after all, he should know the face of his partner. Friends across both identities - and perhaps, with more brewing beneath - she could only see that their teamwork would improve now. He’d all but confirmed it. Adrien was Chat Noir and there was no more perfect person it could be.

But meanwhile, “Hey, I was thinking, could you maybe help me with my science homework? I didn’t get a chance to finish it last night since some dumb stray cat distracted me.”

He laughed, fixing her with his intense green gaze, and brilliant smile, “I’d love to, princess.”

Alya all but screamed.

**Author's Note:**

> The song I've referenced/translated is [this one](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TxWLybPwBzs) which, imo, is a perfect romance song since it's so cutesy and cliché and I'm a little bit in love


End file.
